


The Gap Between Word and Deed

by Ash_Cassidy97



Series: come on now, follow my lead [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: 4 +1 things, Also Newt's father is a bag of shit. just so we're clear. Theseus agrees., Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Autistic Newt Scamander, BAMF Newt Scamander, Brothers, FTM Newt Scamander, Fluff and Angst, Like at this point: is Credence living just expected?, Multi, Theseus is a Stressed Ray of Sunshine, the FTM is talked, the non-con is Grindelwald and Percy, though that's not talked about much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 08:30:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12032070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ash_Cassidy97/pseuds/Ash_Cassidy97
Summary: Not a lot of people get mad for Newt, Theseus thought.That was Newt’s name, from the second his brother told him with his back straight and fear in his eyes. Theseus slipped up, and fought to get it right, practicing his brother’s name in front of a mirror, making sure to never get it wrong again.Father kicked his brother out when Theseus was fourteen.Or:The Four times Theseus was proud of his brother and didn’t say anything, and one of the times he did.





	The Gap Between Word and Deed

**Author's Note:**

> I want to be very clear on this: there is talk of abuse and implicit rape. While it is largely glossed over because I didn’t want to write angst porn, it is there. Please do not read if this would disturb you, and feel free to ask me if you’re unsure. The thing is largely happy though.

Not a lot of people get mad for Newt, Theseus thought.

 

That was Newt’s name, from the second his brother told him with his back straight and fear in his eyes. Theseus slipped up, and fought to get it right, practicing his brother’s name in front of a mirror, making sure to never get it wrong again.

 

Father kicked his brother out when Theseus was fourteen.

 

It wasn’t the soft, quiet affair that Newt would paint it later. Theseus fought, verbally for two weeks, and Newt tried so damn hard to, to box himself up. And Theseus was the one who pushed it, kept pushing it, because his brother was in pain.

 

“You know I love you, right?” He had to ask, had to make sure because people don’t kick out their kids for love. Newt nodded, not making eye contact, and God, Newt was already gone.  And Merlin, Theseus picked something up from his mom about watching the quiet ones. “Alright, come on then.”

 

“Where we going? You can’t-Father will-”

 

“I don’t give a damn, kid, come on. We’re going shopping.” And he corralled his brother out of the house, taking up the suitcase like it wasn’t an iron ball. He shoved past his useless mother who loved her creatures more than her children. His fist was bruising from where he punched Father on the jaw.

 

Theseus took him to all the expensive stores in London, paying for everything through their Father’s name. The sales representatives gave them weird looks that Theseus dutifully ignored.

 

Theseus did not care. He had a brother, and his brother was scared that he wouldn’t be loved. And Theseus could not find it in himself to care about others’ feelings at the moment. Newt needed somebody to get mad for him. Newt needed something, something provable, that shows people care.

 

“How are you going to explain this?”

 

“I’m not,” Theseus said firmly. He was fourteen years old, and Merlin watch over his brother, because they both charged into danger, and Theseus was five feet tall and full of rage. He’d written his transfigure professor three days ago, who helped put Newt and him up at an inn, just outside Knockturn Alley. It was a one room bit. He’d kipped on the floor, forcing Newt to take the bed.

 

He used his wand, two years of Hogwarts under his belt, to do Newt’s tie up right, outside Dippet's office. He had a letter from the minister of magic letting him do magic early in life.

 

He’d forced Dippet to take them in. Theseus had a stack of court cases, citing all the legal reasons why Hogwarts had to take his brother in. He watched as Dumbledore fought alongside him, and thought “that’s who I want to be when I grow up.”

 

He let his brother hug him on the platform, like he would let his kid brother wander off into a warzone alone. He sat firmly across from Newt for the remaining five years of Hogwarts, making damn well sure his brother was looked after. Houses don’t separate blood, and shame on anybody who thought so.

 

The day he dropped Newt off at the platform was a somber affair. For five years, he’d kept people off Newt, fighting back, even before his father kicked them out. The Auror training has nothing on children with mean streaks a mile wide. He tucked Newt’s tie up right, and smiled at his brother, running his hands along Newt’s shoulders.

 

“You be good,” he said softly. Newt was a skinny fifteen year old, already drifting apart from people. Newt nodded, not meeting his brother’s eyes well.

 

And Merlin, Theseus wanted to say something, wanted to tuck his brother under his arm and keep him safe from the world. But he knew, _he knew_ that Newt could and would take on the world.

 

So he brushed some lint off the his brother’s robes, and told him to be good.

* * *

 

The second time, Theseus came close to bending Dippet’s nose was in Newt’s second to last year. Newt, who had a busted lip and a bruised face with tear tracks, met his eyes, and that was enough.

 

That was quite enough.

 

“What happened?” Theseus asked, marching in like a good soldier. He flicked his wand at Newt’s sleeves, rolling them up perfectly, charming the small things. He had six unopened letters in his pack from Father.

 

“He was _changing_ himself,” a girl said from the corner, and Theseus closed his eyes.

 

Of course Newt was. Of course he was, he was trying so damn hard to stuff himself away in a neat little box, to cut away at the undesirable parts, to make himself easier to look at, and Merlin, Theseus hadn’t seen desperation in letters about bowtruckles and centaurs. He saw his brother trying to cram his head full of knowledge, and the inability for people to get angry for his brother.

 

And Merlin, Theseus knew about his brother’s parts, knew how Newt was scared of other people seeing him naked, of him biting his tongue and living in the girl’s dormitory. He knew, he knew about the transfigured sock Newt packed with, because it was his brother, and at this point, Newt regularly asked him all sorts of questions, slipped in between notes about hippogriffs and dragons. And it was a constant fight on Newt’s behalf to meet people’s rage with kindness, and the expectation of kindness in return, and Merlin, Theseus will _never_ give Newt a reason to not ask him questions, to talk to him.

 

Theseus would _dare_ anybody to call Hufflepuffs cowards to his face.

 

“Mr. Scamander was saving himself,” Dumbledore said in a deadly polite voice, the same voice that held Theseus up when he left home. “Whether it is illegal to change one’s bodily appearance is not what is up for debate right now.”

 

“I can not have students here who are-”

 

“What?” Newt asked, keeping his eyes on his feet. He wanted to disappear, to sink into the ground, to go to the forest. “Be different?” Like it wasn’t ironic that he had magic burned into his bones. And Theseus swore the hat got it wrong with its song about only one house being brave.

 

“Miss Lestrange was worried that you were endangering yourself, and other students.”

 

“Whatever tests I performed,” Newt said strongly, not wavering. Tenacity. Mark it. “It was to myself, and caused no harm.”

 

“I can not allow students who experiment on themselves to remain at this school.” Dippet looked sad, and Theseus was already composing a letter in his head.

 

“I understand, sir,” Newt said, not dropping his head, not giving a fucking inch. And Merlin, Theseus knew he did something right by his brother. Something went right, because Newt got this irony, this blot on the wizarding world. “I understand that it is not your job to keep children safe, to provide a place away from those who would shun them. Have a good day.”

 

“Newton,” Dippet started, and Theseus firmly kicked Dippet’s door open, and let Newt walk ahead.

 

Dumbledore gave a child a suitcase, and said he’d fight this war later. Theseus’ knuckles tightened, and his mouth got a bitter slant. He no longer wanted to be like the greatest wizard in England.

 

Newt got a job the next day at the front of the war. And Theseus nearly crashed the car when he was told calmly by his brother.

* * *

 

Theseus didn’t see his brother during that war. It was more deliberate than it should’ve been sometimes. Theseus was barely holding it together, barely holding his people together. And spells were being cursed at them, and there were dragons, and all the usual awful things. And he didn’t trust himself not to break down in front of his brother, because at the end of it all, they still had only each other.

 

But there was a moment.

 

When the front was loud and terrible, and the sound of the cannons was drowning all the screaming, and Theseus was trying desperately to hold the line as Billy got torn down, next to him.

 

Newt came in on a dragon, clothes bloody and ripped, hair whipping back from the wings. And it was the first time he’d seen joy on his brother’s face in a long time.

 

Fire blazed across the field, and Newt landed roughly in front of Theseus’ line. “Together?” he shouted, wrecking the cannon like he hadn’t left school early.

 

And later, Newt helped out after the fight, tending the wounded with more kindness than most, especially the enemy, stretching his hands across the gaps caused by cruelty.

 

And by Merlin, something had gone right in that kid.

* * *

 

Three years down the line, Newt was halfway across the world most nights, stopping by for a cup of tea once a month. Theseus was usually half asleep from his caseload. So it took a minute to catch on to the going ons in America.

 

“You did what?” Theseus asked, laying plates out for supper.

 

“I freed Frank, weren’t you paying attention?”

 

“Yes, I got that. You saved America?”

 

“Huh. I guess I did.” Newt was busy stepping out of his case, peering around his brother’s flat. “How did you kill another plant?” A small boy followed him, arms crossed around his ribs like he was holding himself in. “Oh, this is Credence.” Newt waved his hand in a vague motion. “Theseus is my brother. I told you about him right?”

 

Judging by the mirror look of confusion on the boy’s face, Newt was his usual vague self. Merlin’s saggy ballsack. “I’ll put an extra plate out. Pleased to meet you,” Theseus said, slowly shaking the kid’s hand. People don’t end up with Newt because they’re well adjusted folks.

 

And Theseus remembered nights in a small flat, the smell of burnt beans and toast, and Newt scribbling away in notebooks. He remembered lost creatures being brought into their tight budget and quarters, and honestly, he only had himself to blame at this point.

 

He’d taught his brother that no gap was too great to reach across, to offer kindness when there had only been cruel word and deed before.

 

And Credence, who the fuck names their kid Credence, sat at the edge of his seat and flinched when Theseus raised the ladle for the beans. They were still a little bit burnt, and Newt still tried to sneak writing at the table past him, and Merlin, something went right. And Picket, Theseus rolled his eyes, got a smile out of the boy by hopping across the table, and he was was so damn proud of his brother.

* * *

 

Because they’re British, they rarely talk about shit. Newt would write him letters, rambling about shit, talking about various creatures, but rarely mentioning people.

 

And Theseus got it. His brother was unsure around people, never meeting their eyes, always jumping forward to jump back. Creatures, Newt understood. People took a little more effort, and Newt was unsure of his thoughts on the subject.

 

So it gave him a bit of a shock when Newt’s head appeared in his fireplace.

 

“Hey, Theseus, I need your help.” There was screaming on the other side of the wall, and Theseus dove through the fireplace, wand at the ready, promptly forgetting all of his training in the moment of Newt being in danger.

 

A man covered in stripes of cloths was crouched behind a fainting couch. Newt wasn’t scared of the man brandishing a wand from a corner. And Theseus sighed. He had himself to blame. Also, why the fuck did Newt have a fainting couch in wherever they are.

 

“Hey, kid,” Theseus murmured,talking to Newt, dropping a knee. The man was terrified, whites in his eyes showing, and Newt had called him because his brother was self-aware. And Merlin, Newt was good with people, far better than most people thought.

 

And Theseus remembers Newt writing him about Credence, remembers how unsure Newt can be with people. Most days, Theseus wants to go back and kill his father for ever planting that seed of doubt.

 

“You swore you wouldn’t call anybody,” the bundle of rags said, and Theseus recognized Percy’s voice.

 

“I know, I know,” Newt agreed softly. “But this isn’t anybody, this is m’brother, Theseus. And he’s better with healing magic.”

 

Which. Fair.

 

“I don’t-I don’t-”

 

“Shh. It’s alright, it’s alright.” Newt bumbled his way close to Percy, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “It’s all right.”

 

Theseus wasn’t really needed. His brother was good at his work: helping creatures. Some days, he just needed somebody to believe in him.

 

Newt tucked the man away in his suitcase, getting Theseus to help carry the man down the stairs. Newt kept up a calming babble about all manner of things. Credence was handy with making tea.

 

“Shh, that’s it, that’s it.” Percy fought to get off the bed.

 

“Where am I?”

 

“My home,” Newt murmured, gently tugging up the shirt. “It’s alright.” Percy had gaping wounds in his chest, bruises all over. “All right, all right. I’m just gonna help you drink some tea.” Newt ended up soaked in tea, but some of it went down the injured’s throat, and Percy went to sleep at once.

 

Theseus helped with the actual healing magic. Credence sat on the bottom step of the staircase, watching the proceedings. Newt cleaned what skin he could see with a clean rag, and soap and water. Theseus looked around the room. It was cramped with scap writings and plant samples.

 

“Will he heal?” Theseus asked, not letting go of Percy’s hand.

 

“Possibly, time will tell, no use worrying over it now.” Newt sighed, and put away the water and cloth. “Credence, can you handle the feeding for tonight? I fear a fever will set in.”

 

Credence got up and left.

 

“You okay?” Theseus asked, watching his brother. Percy wasn’t bad off that he could see, but Newt knew something, and not just that Credence needed a break.

 

Newt shook his head. “I think Grindelwald did more than beat him. I’m going to need your help in this.” They moved Percy onto his side. The man stirred weakly. “It’s alright, it’s alright, I need to make sure you’re not bleeding. Shh.”

 

Percy thrashed hard, breaking Newt’s nose. Newt spelled the bleed shut. Percy was backed up against the wall, hands stretched outward, bandaged though he was. The two brothers backed up.

 

“Please, no,” Percy pleaded. “I can’t.”

 

“Easy,” Newt said softly. “Easy.” There was blood on the bedclothes, proving that Newt couldn’t stop his examination. “Shhh. . .” Newt poured some more tea.

 

“Please, I don’t want to go to sleep.”

 

“Please, trust me, just for a little bit. I don’t want to keep hurting you by doing this awake.”

 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.”

 

“I know, I know.” Somehow, Newt convinced the man to sip at the tea. His brother did the exam, preserving the man’s dignity.

 

Newt bundled the man up in blankets, checking his temperature. Percy started snoring lightly. Newt sat down heavily in a chair across from Theseus.

 

“Thank you,” Newt said softly.

 

“Anytime. You’re going to let him stay here?”

 

Newt nodded. “America’s not going to want to keep him. MACUSA hates any mention of the events four months ago. It’s a damn miracle he’s alive. I won’t have our good work go to waste, because of their stupidity.”

 

Theseus carefully hid his smile at his brother’s outrage.

* * *

 

Newt for whatever reason, had invited Theseus over to America.

 

Tina and Queenie were working in the kitchen. He pretended to not have seen Jacob, one of his favorites out of all of Newt’s friends. He had an eye only on Percy. Percy had an arm wrapped around Newt, and Merlin, Theseus was going to have to say something later. The others didn’t bring it up all during dinner.

 

Theseus caught Percy outside.

 

“Perc, my brother’s had a tough time of it with people.”

 

“I know-”  


“And if you hurt him, they’ll never find your body.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Good.”

 

“Are you done threatening my boyfriend?” Newt asked, leaning up against the porch railing. He lept the last few steps, smiling at his brother’s expression.

 

“Probably.”

 

Newt hugged him swiftly. Theseus caught him to hold him at arm's length, before hugging him again. “I’m proud of you, you know that, right?”

 

“Course I do.”

 

“No, really, I’m proud of you. You’ve done good with all this.” Theseus waved his hand at Newt, trying to encompass everything about his brother.

 

Theseus watched them walk off. Newt was tugging at Percy’s hair which was growing out pasted that hacked off style. Credence was helping with the dishes. Jacob was fiddling with leftovers with Queenie peering over his shoulder to see the Muggle way. And Tina.

 

Well, Theseus whistled very softly to himself. He took a second to be proud of himself in raising his brother, and a moment longer to appreciate how very good this night was going to go.

 

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, okay I’m a sucker for Theseus because fuck that kid just hanging Newt out to dry. You know Stiles Stilinski? Yeah. That level of friendship. This is entirely inspired by everybody appreciating the lack of angst on Newt’s part. And I can just see Theseus stressing out in the background. Like he is a stressed ray of sunshine, that’s a tag, it’s not mine. But yes. The logistics of Newt being tans are not talked about as much in this, because that’s not the bloody point. I needed to write about Theseus not abandoning him.


End file.
